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mxunsmiley's review against another edition
3.0
The pieces in this collection chronicle a trans “every day”, mundane experiences to off-set the often sensationalist and miserable narratives of our lives which are taken to be the totality of the trans experience. Selected by a panel of judges for the JKP Writing Prize, open to trans people over 18, the pieces were brief and dealt with either a more palatable and accessible mundane or a mundane that veers more toward the esoteric and contemplative—you can guess which I preferred.
The excitement of possibility, as trans people reject accepted notions of gender and sex, with Sabah Choudrey writing in the introduction, “As humans we are expert at asking, ‘why?’ As trans people we are expert at asking, ‘why not?’” allow us to imagine a world where there really are no rules, guidelines, or requirements to simply Be—and the Being is whatever we’d like it to be; the worlds desired by the contributors to this collection are all-encompassing.
I question why there was only one transfeminine contributor, that being Danielle Hopkins with “The One That No One Talks About / Alice What’s the Matter? (Delete As Appropriate),” in which she relates the daily trials of routine care of her body post-surgery—and this subject matter is already questionable to me, not because surgical means of transition are not a necessary topic to discuss and dispel fairytale notions of, but because I wonder why it’s a trans woman’s body under the microscope here, meanwhile the transmasculine contributors have the freedom to explore the esoteric, or the expansive joy of being trans?
To get into the piece itself: I don’t like the “body as enemy to be conquered” and war motifs employed. The wry and matter-of-fact relation of the drudgery of recovery, however, was definitely apt.
“Torso” by Kole Fulmine made it so that Danielle’s piece was not the sole piece so extremely focused on the body, but the difference lay in its relative sterility—it does not discuss pus or infection or any of the unsavory components of the body, though it does hone in on bodily discomfort and incongruity, capturing that sense of alienation well.
Another caveat I have is with the piece written by Den Casey, “An Eagle at Sunset”. I did love the implied reason that trans people enjoy tattoos being that it’s a choice we can make with our bodies, and in many ways, they are more accessible than medical means of transition, while having endless possibilities for expression and self-affirmation. The line “It is always the marginalized who are required to explain ourselves” hit me a lot too; for nonbinary lesbians, whose genders are challenged relentlessly, and other nonbinary people who do not easily “fit” into a category, the futility of language is too apparent.
However, I will hone in on language regardless—using “female lesbian” to denote “cis lesbian”—and, effectually, “normal lesbian,” delegitimizes trans lesbians, whose sexualities are challenged relentlessly because of that normalization of cisgender lesbians!
Speaking more on language—my favorite piece, “Walk in My Shoes” by Kirrin Medcalf, had such a tone of temporality and disorientation as urbanity encroaches on life, human and non-human. They also describe quite well the futility of language I mentioned, and the senselessness of expecting “exactness” when it can only ever be an approximation. The piece is at its most evocative when they invoke Dr. James Barry, who lived and practiced medicine as a man and whose gender assigned at birth was only discovered after his death (against his wishes, as well). The connection understood between figures we must absolutely not ever label with modern terminology—because heterosexuality as a defined category, by contrast, has always existed, right?—even if they would not use the same language: “The words are different, but what they describe is the same, or close to it. I think of it as a path that runs parallel to mine.”
My other favorite piece also deals with the insufficiency of language, and ends with an ironic desperation and denial despite that acknowledgement: “Banana” by Harry Mizumoto. It also referenced a book I read recently, “Pond” by Claire Louise-Bennett, which I did not expect to return to in such a way. They put it like this: “The protagonist doesn’t subjugate her surroundings with words, but becomes it”; and the word “subjugate” is so provocative, as though assigning language to things demotes them in a way… an interesting thing to wonder about. “I just need to learn the words”… because language is obligatory, never mind the different ways of communication that don’t rely on traditional “words”.
A piece which struck the most connection, to me, between Madness and transness was “Bits and Pieces of Myself” by Edward Whelan, and all the insinuations of plurality as he tethers himself to the mundane, while a younger part of him screams and demands attention, and parts more readily perceived as “not-me” in the form of creatures disturb him. Intrusions, a struggle with bodily perception and knowledge, all cohere to a sense of horror yet eventual resignation.
The last piece, “My Amazing Mostly Monochrome Dreamcoat” by Ezra Woodger, begs the question of the power of visibility, along with its privilege. It empowers trans connection and joy, but for whom? And by whom? This question has me return to the focus on transmasculine perspectives. There had to be more than one transfeminine contributor here, even in a relatively short collection, as it was the product of and reward from a competition. When transmasculine experiences dominate, it is only to each of our detriments.
The excitement of possibility, as trans people reject accepted notions of gender and sex, with Sabah Choudrey writing in the introduction, “As humans we are expert at asking, ‘why?’ As trans people we are expert at asking, ‘why not?’” allow us to imagine a world where there really are no rules, guidelines, or requirements to simply Be—and the Being is whatever we’d like it to be; the worlds desired by the contributors to this collection are all-encompassing.
I question why there was only one transfeminine contributor, that being Danielle Hopkins with “The One That No One Talks About / Alice What’s the Matter? (Delete As Appropriate),” in which she relates the daily trials of routine care of her body post-surgery—and this subject matter is already questionable to me, not because surgical means of transition are not a necessary topic to discuss and dispel fairytale notions of, but because I wonder why it’s a trans woman’s body under the microscope here, meanwhile the transmasculine contributors have the freedom to explore the esoteric, or the expansive joy of being trans?
To get into the piece itself: I don’t like the “body as enemy to be conquered” and war motifs employed. The wry and matter-of-fact relation of the drudgery of recovery, however, was definitely apt.
“Torso” by Kole Fulmine made it so that Danielle’s piece was not the sole piece so extremely focused on the body, but the difference lay in its relative sterility—it does not discuss pus or infection or any of the unsavory components of the body, though it does hone in on bodily discomfort and incongruity, capturing that sense of alienation well.
Another caveat I have is with the piece written by Den Casey, “An Eagle at Sunset”. I did love the implied reason that trans people enjoy tattoos being that it’s a choice we can make with our bodies, and in many ways, they are more accessible than medical means of transition, while having endless possibilities for expression and self-affirmation. The line “It is always the marginalized who are required to explain ourselves” hit me a lot too; for nonbinary lesbians, whose genders are challenged relentlessly, and other nonbinary people who do not easily “fit” into a category, the futility of language is too apparent.
However, I will hone in on language regardless—using “female lesbian” to denote “cis lesbian”—and, effectually, “normal lesbian,” delegitimizes trans lesbians, whose sexualities are challenged relentlessly because of that normalization of cisgender lesbians!
Speaking more on language—my favorite piece, “Walk in My Shoes” by Kirrin Medcalf, had such a tone of temporality and disorientation as urbanity encroaches on life, human and non-human. They also describe quite well the futility of language I mentioned, and the senselessness of expecting “exactness” when it can only ever be an approximation. The piece is at its most evocative when they invoke Dr. James Barry, who lived and practiced medicine as a man and whose gender assigned at birth was only discovered after his death (against his wishes, as well). The connection understood between figures we must absolutely not ever label with modern terminology—because heterosexuality as a defined category, by contrast, has always existed, right?—even if they would not use the same language: “The words are different, but what they describe is the same, or close to it. I think of it as a path that runs parallel to mine.”
My other favorite piece also deals with the insufficiency of language, and ends with an ironic desperation and denial despite that acknowledgement: “Banana” by Harry Mizumoto. It also referenced a book I read recently, “Pond” by Claire Louise-Bennett, which I did not expect to return to in such a way. They put it like this: “The protagonist doesn’t subjugate her surroundings with words, but becomes it”; and the word “subjugate” is so provocative, as though assigning language to things demotes them in a way… an interesting thing to wonder about. “I just need to learn the words”… because language is obligatory, never mind the different ways of communication that don’t rely on traditional “words”.
A piece which struck the most connection, to me, between Madness and transness was “Bits and Pieces of Myself” by Edward Whelan, and all the insinuations of plurality as he tethers himself to the mundane, while a younger part of him screams and demands attention, and parts more readily perceived as “not-me” in the form of creatures disturb him. Intrusions, a struggle with bodily perception and knowledge, all cohere to a sense of horror yet eventual resignation.
The last piece, “My Amazing Mostly Monochrome Dreamcoat” by Ezra Woodger, begs the question of the power of visibility, along with its privilege. It empowers trans connection and joy, but for whom? And by whom? This question has me return to the focus on transmasculine perspectives. There had to be more than one transfeminine contributor here, even in a relatively short collection, as it was the product of and reward from a competition. When transmasculine experiences dominate, it is only to each of our detriments.
caislekyle's review against another edition
4.0
good, cute, and short— read in one sitting. sometimes a bit ridiculous but mostly very sweet and real
crazytourists_books's review against another edition
emotional
informative
medium-paced
5.0
A great collection of essays on the trans experience and daily life. Equally important for members of the trans community, as they'll see themselves and identify and hopefully feel less lonely and strange, and for the cis readers, as they'll get an idea of the difficulties and joys of trans people and they (we) will hopefully learn something: kindess and acceptance is all that's needed.
fynndodo's review against another edition
emotional
funny
hopeful
informative
reflective
fast-paced
3.75
zjn's review
Much writing on trans & non-binary experiences focuses on trauma or the medical aspects of (some people's) transition. In 'Transitions' this narrative is challenged, as the contributors share stories of joy, resilience, and community.
The collection is short but thoughtfully collated, containing some real gems. A wonderful read that I'd recommend to members of the trans community seeking nuanced, comforting writing and to those outside of the community wishing to look beyond 'trans 101' texts for more individual stories of trans life and joy.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for providing me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
The collection is short but thoughtfully collated, containing some real gems. A wonderful read that I'd recommend to members of the trans community seeking nuanced, comforting writing and to those outside of the community wishing to look beyond 'trans 101' texts for more individual stories of trans life and joy.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for providing me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
peannlewis's review
hopeful
inspiring
medium-paced
3.75
Content Warnings
Moderate: Medical content, Pandemic/Epidemic, and Transphobia
maysbonsai's review
4.0
Pure queer power and affirmation. No words could explain or expand on how moved I felt by this.
megselyane's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
reflective
fast-paced
4.75